Saturday, July 11, 2009


I recently re-discovered my songs from Romania. The ones we sang every morning and night at camp. After dinner, during devotions, before bed. I was reminiscing as I do every single summer around this time. Thinking about the kids in my groups over the years. What are they doing? Are they okay? Are they growing in God? Do they remember me?

I know that some of them remember me. I was remembering the last time I was at Camp Joy. I was greeted by lots of hugs and many very fast questions spoken in either Gypsy or Romanian depending on the child. I miss them. I miss my kids. Each and every one. I think of them in the winter when I'm cold and wonder if they are warm enough. I think of them in the fall and wonder if they're ready for winter, if they have enough food. I think of them in the spring and how happy they would be to have the warmer weather again. And I think of them in the summer, like now. Wondering who's at camp, who isn't, how big they've gotten or if they still remember the I do today.

Last week I found my favourite and only Gypsy song I know. I found my copy with all 6 verses that I know, but believe me there are many more than 6. It is a beautiful song and it is sung in every single Gypsy village. It's about God their Advocate, the Bride of Christ, and the Holy Spirit. Every Gypsy knows this song by heart. It has been passed down through generations one to another, mother to child, and so on. It's pretty cool. It makes me smile every time I sing it. It makes me think of my kids in Romania. My Gypsies.

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